Haunted
by doc100
Summary: "Be sure your sins will find you out." This story explores Briggs' reaction to Charlie finding out about his involvement in Juan Badillo's murder. Story takes place at the end of the episode "The Head of the Pig." Please read the author's notes for further information. While primarily about Charlie & Briggs, the story will involve all the characters of Graceland.
1. Prologue

**Haunted** by doc

_**Summary:**__ Be sure your sins will find you out._

_**Description:**__ This story explores Briggs' reaction to Charlie finding out about his involvement in Juan Badillo's murder. The original premise was to be a one-shot reaction piece, which takes place immediately after the camera breaks to credits in the episode "The Head of the Pig." __After the amazing shower and kitchen scenes, where Briggs & Charlie discuss the pregnancy, I was disheartened to have that damn tape pop back up! I started this story at that time, but was unable to finish due to my hectic schedule. The following episode, "Home," was like a sucker punch to my gut. I literally felt sick by the end and trashed my partially written story. A few days passed and I began to contrive endings for the storyline that "I could live with." I was also concerned that viewer numbers might not allow for renewal of the show, so I decided to retrieve my "one-shot" and develop it into a longer story utilizing one of my potential three endings. I don't know if I'll have the time or inclination to write the other two, but so far this ending is my favorite._

_**Rating:**__ Teen. I debated about this rating, as the story at times has a more mature theme. That said, the words are more poetic than graphic, so I decided to post it here._

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><p><em><strong>PLEASE READ THE AUTHOR'S NOTES!<strong>_

_**AN 1: **__Hello everyone, this is my first __GRACELAND__ story, but I have written extensively for other fandoms. I __**LOVE **__GRACELAND__ and adore the couple of Charlie and Briggs! That being said, I can't imagine a more tricky relationship, based on Briggs' behaviors and falsehoods in the first season. I say this both as explanation and warning! My previous readers knew to "trust me" in the care of a favorite couple, so I will plead with you to do the same-__**TRUST ME**__ and let the story develop. I promise not to disappoint those of you who adore this complex couple. I do, however, guarantee an emotional rollercoaster ride! As a "token of goodwill," I'm including a prologue, which will hopefully quell any misgivings about my eventual intent for this story._

_**AN 2**__: I'm a physician who practices neonatology (newborn intensive care). If I should happen to use a medical term or diagnosis you don't understand, please don't hesitate to send me a note requesting further explanation._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Graceland or any of the characters from my favorite shows. I don't profit from them for sure, I wish! I just take them out and play with them on occasion before replacing them safe and sound back on the shelf. The "fade song" ending this chapter is "Pieces" from the album __End of Silence__ by Red._

_Special thanks to my terrific beta, philliesfan1000, the finder and keeper of all things related to spelling and grammar._

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><p><strong>Haunted<strong>

_"You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily or have sharp edges or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. __**But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.**__" - The Velveteen Rabbit_

"_My biggest fear is that eventually you will see me the way I see myself." – Unknown_

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_Sometime far in the future…_

She feels his tremors first, as his movements jar her from sleep. His breathing is rapid, his gasps desperately searching for the air essential to life. His throaty moans break the overwhelming silence of the dark room, "NO, nooo…please…don't go…"

Lifting her head from his chest, she can barely make out his features in these early moments before dawn. She raises a hand to his face, cupping his brow, drawing a soothing path across his forehead with the tips of her fingers. Her lips trace the scar on his left cheek with the gossamer touch of a butterfly's wing. She's been through these same events hundreds of times over the years. In the beginning, his nightmares were nearly continuous, happening several times each night. He'd contritely offered to sleep alone, but she'd had none of it. Her presence seemed to soothe and lessen the duration and intensity of his terrors, so she had dutifully remained by his side, forsaking slumber and peace for the sinewy strength and enigma that was uniquely him.

His arms clutch her tightly to his side, refusing to release his ever-present bedrock of asylum; that, too, had changed over the years. In the beginning, he'd pushed her away, as he fought off his demons. He often left bruises and marks in his wake, as he wrestled for his very soul. In the morning, his sorrowful eyes begged forgiveness, as he caressed the pain of his inflictions from her skin. It was a small price for her to pay for the treasure of holding his heart.

His cries break her from her musings, as she shushes away the growing noise, afraid he'll rouse the rest of the house. His breaths come in fits and starts, as he gasps under his weighty burden.

"Sweetheart," she whispers gently into his ear, her warm breath causing eruptions of shudders to quake through his body. When he fails to stir from the dream, she tries again, "Paul, baby, you're having a nightmare."

He startles awake with a grunt, then rubs away the sleep from his eyes. She is well acquainted with this behavior too, watching as he shields his eyes from her unwavering and intuitive stare, in an attempt to hide the embarrassment of being caught in such a fragile state. After all these years, he still fears the possibility of seeing disgust, or worse yet, pity, in her gaze. She stills his hand, gently turning his face toward her, nothing but love and tenderness shining through her eyes.

"I woke you up," he mumbles with a slur, his voice still thick with slumber.

"It's okay," her voice is soft as silk, and smooth as honey, caressing away his protective walls of unease.

He nods an acknowledgment, but remains tense under her weight. She shifts slightly, settling the crown of her head under his chin, giving him a moment to compose himself. Her fingers meander a lazy path down his side, until she reaches the edge of his t-shirt. Deftly tunneling underneath to find the warmth of his skin, she begins the well-traveled journey of unwinding his nightmares. She had mastered her tried and true technique in the dark hours, as his apparitions danced on the walls of their bedroom.

He bristles at first, aware of her intentions, but then relaxes under the familiar comfort of her ministrations. She waits until his breathing evens out and his own hands begin to wander.

"You want to tell me what's turning around in that head of yours?" She smiles at the familiar turn of phrase.

"I never remember my dreams, baby," clearly he recalls that conversation too. His hands become more demanding and insistent in their search of his target, as he attempts to derail her probing questions.

She pushes up on one knee and languidly stretches atop his body, slowly melting her skin to his, inch by inch. Her chin comes to rest on her crossed forearms atop his chest, an indulgent smile playing on her lips. She will grant him his reprieve this once, not wanting to sour his mood so early in their vacation holiday.

"That's a good thing. It didn't seem like you were in a happpppy plaaaace," she shivers as his roughened fingertips brush up the delicate skin of her back, taking her short nightgown along for the ride.

He watches her eyelids drift shut under the wave of pleasure pulsing through her body. When she glances his way again, her eyes are glazed and fluid with emotion. He holds her gaze intently, allowing the truth of his words to envelop her, "THIS…is my happy place."

The corner of her mouth turns up at the memory of his first verbal attempt to express his love. He learned to say the words over the years, but those first spoken sentiments are still among her favorites. She arches over him, lips a hair's breadth from his, so he feels her every word, "I love you, too, baby."

He melds his lips to hers, and flips them in a single smooth motion. As his weight presses her into the bed, he removes her silken garment with a single practiced stroke. The softness of the gown evokes a memory of a time now past. She had worn it on their tenth anniversary, as a special gift to him. To this day, no one would dare call his wife girlie. She still preferred t-shirts and jeans to ruffles and lace, but on occasion, she could surprise him. For their tenth anniversary, she had emerged from their bathroom in a short silken nightgown the color and richness of heavy cream….

"Paul?" She tilts her face to the side trying to gain his attention.

…The gown was simple enough, with just a touch of lace, but against the backdrop of her beautifully tanned skin and dark hair, it had proven pure magic for him. The lingerie had been quickly banished that night, in favor of other joys. It was nowhere to be found the following morning and hadn't been seen since. There was not a single stitch of evidence the gown even existed that night, because he had looked. He had finally decided it was a fleeting dream or aberration born of his love-addled mind….

"Hey Paulieee," she tries a singsong voice to no avail.

…yet, here it was, soft and cool to his touch. Lifting it to his face, its perfumed fragrance takes him back to that special night. She smelled of flowers and sunshine, and something else, sweet and reminiscent of love.

"PAUL!" Her voice now more insistent, finally gains his attention. His eyes dart to hers, then dance away, embarrassed to be caught reveling in his daydream.

"Ya still wit me here? I can't exactly do this by myself!" Her normally absent Brooklyn accent easily slips back into place, as she chuckles at the coyness of his boyish alarm.

He shakes his head to clear the cobwebs, before presenting the evidence of his dreams. "I ah…I was just thinking about the, ah…the…the last time you wore…wore this," he flashes her an impish grin to mask the fluster of his stuttering speech, "…I ah…I was beginning to think it, ah…didn't actually…exist."

"Well, are ya content to survive on those memories alone, or do ya wanna make some new ones?!" Her attitude is definitely all Brooklyn this time, along with her condescending New York smirk.

He pegs her with a lecherous glare, throwing in a confident wink for good measure, as he tosses the fantasy garment over his right shoulder. "What do you think, sweet thing?!" He smugly asserts, tossing her cocky attitude right back.

Diving in he catches her lips, kissing her until she begs for air. Settling his weight a little more firmly atop her, he softly whispers in her ear, "Forever isn't long enough to make all our memories, baby…but I'm more than willing to try with you by my side." His lips quiver a bit under the deeply felt emotion of his words. He then searches out his favorite place on the side of her neck, the one that tastes like honey.

She comes undone, as always, and shatters in his arms, Brooklyn attitude now gone, replaced by her deep abiding adoration and love….

'_***'**_

_I'm here again_

_A thousand miles away from you_

_A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am_

_I tried so hard_

_Thought I could do this on my own_

_I've lost so much along the way_

_Then I see your face_

_I know I'm finally yours_

_I find everything I thought I lost before_

_You call my name_

_I come to you in pieces_

_So you can make me whole_

_I've come undone_

_But you make sense of who I am_

_Like puzzle pieces in your hand,_

_Then I see your face_

_I know I'm finally yours_

_I find everything I thought I lost before_

_You call my name_

_I come to you in pieces_

_So you can make me whole!_

_I tried so hard! So hard!_

_I tried so hard!_

_Then I see your face_

_I know I'm finally yours_

_I find everything I thought I lost before_

_You call my name_

_I come to you in pieces_

_So you can make me whole_

_So you can make me whole_

'***'

_To be continued…_

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><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>__ I plan to update this story weekly on Wednesdays, think of it as a __GRACELAND__ episode replacement, while the actual show is on hiatus! There may be occasions where I miss a week, if my schedule gets too crazy. I hope you'll forgive me, but my "little charges" in the NICU must come first! Thank you for taking the time to read the start of my tale; I hope you'll come back for more!_


	2. Chapter 1: Love Like Fools

_**AN:**__ Before I deal with any specifics related to this chapter, I want to thank those of you who have taken the time to review my story. I really appreciate your kind words and encouragement! Apparently, this story isn't most folks "cup of tea," and for that I am truly sorry._

_I realize the story thus far has mostly been from Paul's POV, and that continues on here in chapter 2. That said, Charlie will be playing a much larger role in the upcoming chapters, along with Paul, and the other characters of Graceland. This is not a Briggs-centric story, but rather equal parts DeMarco-Briggs, with the other favorite (and hated) characters having major or minor roles._

_This chapter continues on where chapter 1 ended and follows the episode "Head of the Pig." I don't plan to delve into the episode "Home" all that much, mostly because it didn't make a lot of sense - more about that in the author's notes of chapter 3. I do, however, feel it is important to start bringing Charlie's actions into view, as relates to the tape. There are a few subtle hints of her involvement in this chapter, but I will expand more on her role in chapter 3._

_**Disclaimer: **__The song ending this chapter is "Salvation" from the album __English Rain__ by Gabrielle Aplin._

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: My Salvation<strong>

"_yours is the light by which my spirit's born:_

_yours is the darkness of my soul's return_

_- you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars" – ee cummings_

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><p>Early Wee Hours<p>

Graceland

Southern California

The key missed its mark several times, as he attempted to unlock the door. His hands were shaking from the cold. The rains had continued the entire ride home. He was drenched and freezing.

Lightning zipped across the sky, brightening the night, as thunder crashed in the background. Finally, the key turned in the lock and the doorknob gave way in his shivering hand. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the dark room, thankful to find the space empty and quiet.

He locked up and remained still for a moment, his head resting against the closed door. He had been afraid he'd find Charlie waiting up for him, wanting to discuss his quick exit and long absence. Taking a deep breath of relief, he turned to head upstairs for a much-needed hot shower. Her voice caught him as his foot hit the first step.

"Paul?"

He froze in place, irritated at being caught. It briefly flashed through his mind to continue on upstairs, pretending not to hear. Thinking better of it, he paused and answered. "It's just me, babbbe."

She raised her head from a pillow on the couch and peered into the darkness, trying to make out his form. "Thank goodness! Where have you been? I was worried sick!"

"Out for a drive," was his too quick reply. "Needed to ccclear to my headddd."

"Why?"

He sighed his frustration, and slowly made his way to her side. Crouching beside her, he tried to visualize the expression on her face in the dim, moonless night. Another lightning strike obliged him, as he noted she looked both worried and irritated at the same time. He reached out and traced his fingers over her wrinkled brow.

"You're freezing!" was her instantaneous reply.

"Stttarted raaaining," he stuttered, as he shivered again, "…no roofff on the Broncoooo, 'membbber?"

"You need to get out of those clothes." She quickly morphed into her mothering mode, sitting up to remove his jacket.

After slowly peeling the coat off his wet arms like a second skin, she tugged the soaked shirt over his head. Reaching for a throw from the back of the couch, she wrapped it around his body, briskly rubbing her hands up and down his arms. His initial irritation melted away at her concerned touch. She pulled him close, hugging him to her body. He melted into her, enjoying her closeness and warmth. His face instinctively sought out her neck. She smelled like home to him, a welcoming presence in his current storm. They stayed in that embrace for several minutes, letting the quiet wash over them.

Finally, he pulled away, mumbling apologetically, "I'm getttting you all wetttt."

"No worries." She cupped his cheek, her fingers stroking through his beard. She grabbed the dishtowel from her shoulder with her other hand and gently dabbed away the water droplets, as they trickled from his wet hair onto his face.

The outside storm with its driving winds and rain finally relented to the gentle staccato of raindrops against the expansive glass of the house. The moon peeked through the clearing cover, as the heavy gray clouds moved off in the distance. She studied his face in the filtered light. He was clearly exhausted. Deep lines furrowed his brow, and dark shadows encircled his eyes. She leaned forward. Her lips lightly brushed away the creases on his forehead and meandered down his cheek, before finding his cold lips. She kissed him gently and slowly, expressing her love and concern.

His numb lips remained unmoving for a moment before responding. He couldn't lose this, was the fleeting thought at the back his mind, as he deepened the kiss. She was his anchor, his world.

"You know I love you, riggghttt?" His voice broke with emotion on the last word, and he tried to cover it with a shivering stutter.

She could hear the desperation in his voice, as he whispered the words against her lips. She'd been worried he'd fled tonight, like the last time he'd been caught up in his web of lies and misdeeds. She briefly wondered if she was doing the right thing with the tape, but then resolved she needed to know the truth.

"Yeah," she drawled out and kissed him again. "You should probably get that shower now and warm up." She caressed his cheek in reassurance. He'd been through enough tonight; there was always time to talk tomorrow.

His hand covered hers, pressing her palm to his cheek. He needed that physical link to her, to his future, if he was to weather his current situation. He wouldn't survive without her, of that he was certain. If Lisa's death had taught him little else, it was the delicateness of the tethering thread that linked you to those you held dear. Did Charlie know the essential place she held in his life? Had he ever told her?

"More than anything." He sought her eyes with his own, trying to express the true depth of his feelings, and needing to hear the same from her.

She watched as his eyes glazed over and shone in the moonlight. Leaning in to kiss him again, she whispered fervently against his lips, "Me too, baby, me too."

He stood to regain his bearings and shake off his maudlin mood. The moonlight illuminated the cresting ocean beyond. The approaching and receding waves mesmerized him, reminding him of the fragileness of life, as events threatened to drown him and steal away all he held dear.

She watched the various expressions flicker over his face, one by one, wondering where his thoughts had gone. He caught her studying him out of the corner of his eye and tried to regroup, fearing she'd start questioning him again.

"Well, I better get that shower, before I catch the death of cold," was his feeble attempt at escape.

He turned heel and headed for the stairs. Pausing on the bottom step, he turned back her way. "Why are you down here?"

"Sauce," was her simple one word reply.

The aroma hit him in that moment. His upturned nose inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious scent of tomato, garlic, oregano and basil. He missed the simpler days, when the camaraderie of the house revolved around Charlie's regaling of her ancestors' tale, and the much anticipated, three-day wait for sauce night.

"Ah, yes, the sauce…It smells great, babe," was his rejoinder, as he slipped upstairs.

'_***'**_

He stepped into the hot shower, as steam swirled around him in a cloudy haze. The water cascaded over his body, scalding and reddening his frozen skin. Rather than step back, he embraced the pain, feeling invigorated and alive, happy to feel anything but fear and loneliness. He tried to plan his next move, but his mind was numb from the events of the night. How had he gone from such towering heights to the fires of hell? From the joy of being a father to the fear of losing it all, in mere seconds—all in the space of a single phone call. He felt like a grand prix racer barreling toward the wall at 200 miles per hour. He could clearly see the impending crash, yet couldn't brace for the impact.

Feeling was slowly returning to his hands and feet, as the pins and needles subsided. Reaching for the shower gel, he tried to scrub away the tension and exhaustion of the night, with little effect.

Leaning his hands against the adjacent shower wall, he let the bulk of his weight rest against his muscular arms, as the hot water beat down on his head and his thoughts began to wander. Was it really just a couple of days ago that Charlie returned home from Amber's place? He'd been so excited to get her home after her two-week absence; he'd snuck into the bathroom to find her, like a child in awe trying to get a glimpse of Santa on Christmas morn.

They'd had little contact in the two weeks she'd been gone, despite her assurances to the contrary. His phone calls had gone to voice mail more often than not, rarely to be returned. He had been worried sick and missed her terribly. For such a brief absence, it had felt more like an eternity. Paige had even noticed his wounded puppy dog eyes, when he'd mistaken her for Charlie trudging up the stairs.

He hadn't realized the enormous size of his bed, until he'd been left to sleep alone. Before Charlie, he'd found his private space roomy and liberating, away from the other occupants of the house, but now, without her, its emptiness suffocated him in silence and loneliness. He wondered if she had any inclination of how much she had changed him. His fun-loving bachelor days, of flirting with anything in a skirt and staying out all night, were well and truly done.

"Well, I guess I'm finally housebroken," was his self-loathing reply. It had certainly taken him long enough.

Shaking his head in disgust, he realized he couldn't even sleep without her, as there had been very little of that luxury in her absence. His nightmares tortured him every time he closed his eyes, and without Charlie to soothe them away, he'd been left to suffer the torment of his demons. That night when he'd stepped into the shower with her, after seeing the positive pregnancy test, had been his first good night's sleep in weeks.

That little irritating voice in the back of his head, the one that had been so vocal of late, chided him again. 'Of course, the fact she wore you out had no impact at all!' He snorted at that little tidbit of information; it was the first time that annoying know-it-all had been right all night!

He turned off the water, reached for a towel, and stepped out of the shower. Drying off, he raked his fingers through his wet hair and decided to let it air dry for the night. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed for his room. He dressed quickly in boxers and a t-shirt, then pulled back the blankets and crawled into his bed. He tossed and turned for several minutes, before throwing his legs over the side and standing up again. Without Charlie, it was pointless to even try to sleep. He was torn between wanting her there for comfort and escaping her questioning gaze. Either way, it was going to be another sleepless night.

He wandered out of his room in search of her, then doubled back and entered her room instead. Even if he couldn't have her, there was something calming about having her things around him. He dropped wearily onto her bed. Gazing around her room, he was taken by the décor that was so…well, Charlie. A streamlined mix of modern and eclectic, nothing too feminine or frilly, but cozy just the same, in a definite Charlie sort of way. Pulling back the quilt on her bed, he slipped his legs underneath and reclined against her headboard. He'd managed to fall asleep in that same position multiple times in the beginning of their relationship.

His legs stretched and moved of their own accord between the cool sheets, seeking out hers. He sighed in frustration as he twisted and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot. Sliding further down the bed, he laid his head on her pillow and was relieved to find it smelled like her. His eyes had almost drifted shut when his hand became entangled in a strap beneath the adjacent pillow.

Pulling out the garment, he held up her pink bra for closer inspection. He grinned impishly with the knowledge she also possessed a pair of matching panties. Another little secret that no one else knew about his Charlie: she actually liked pink! While she preferred to dress in casual clothing of black, blue or gray, and absolutely abhorred frills and lace, she frequently hid a tiny bit of her feminine side underneath her 'I can compete in a man's world' persona.

He'd first discovered her secret on their second op as Katie and Eric. That night, when she'd shot up trying to placate Quinn, he'd been forced to physically carry her out of the dealer's house and stash her at his emergency apartment. She'd been so disoriented and sick, he'd helped her into some of his spare clothing when hers had become drenched in sweat. That's when he'd discovered her secret. He'd never mentioned it to her for fear of her fury-at least not until after they'd become involved. He loved that juxtaposition about her, tough on the outside but soft and feminine underneath. That physical persona matched her deeper personality to a 'T.' She was tough as nails one minute, fists flying with criminal scum like Quinn, then comforting and tender the next, looking out for her CI, Whistler.

He rose from the bed and began to pace. It was clear that sleep was not coming easily that night. He tossed the bra over his shoulder and wandered to the other side of her room. Picking up a perfume bottle, he removed the cap and inhaled. It was his very favorite fragrance on her. He'd been buying it for her as Christmas and birthday gifts since long before they were involved. The perfume reminded him of sunshine and ocean breezes, with subtle undertones of floral, or at least, that was the way the sales lady at Saks had described the fragrance when he'd inquired about it. All he knew was it smelled like Charlie. He'd been in a hurry that day, making his way through Saks to gain entrance to the other stores in the mall. As he strolled past the cosmetic counter, his nose had been assaulted by the overwhelming potpourri of smells. He'd almost escaped, when a subtle fragrance caught his nose, immediately invoking a mental image of his best friend. He'd been drawn to buy it for her in that moment, for reasons he never fully understood until now, and it had become her favorite perfume from that time on.

Setting the bottle back on her dresser, he meandered toward her desk. It was in its usual state of organized disarray. He knew better than to touch a single paper, envelope or file. As messy as the desk appeared to the casual observer, Charlie knew where each and every item belonged. He'd tried fiddling with her system once in jest.

'Let's just say,' he mused, 'payback was a bitch'!

He opened the sliding door and stepped out onto her balcony. The rain had finally ceased, and the air held that distinct, freshly scrubbed aroma that only happens after a deep cleansing rain. The storm clouds had long since cleared out, leaving behind a star-filled sky. The temperature had risen since the fierce winds had calmed, too. He pulled up her chaise lounge and relaxed back into it to enjoy the symphony of his favorite night sounds. The dancing waves crashed against the shore, nearly drowning out the crickets' serenade. He was reminded again why he loved the shores of Southern California. He was so lost in his own wonderland of sight and sounds that he failed to hear Charlie's approaching footsteps.

"There you are," she exclaimed, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"What?" was his startled reply.

"I've been calling your name for the last five minutes, all the while trying not to wake the entire house."

"Sorry," he said meekly, turning his eyes back to his beloved sea.

She studied him for a moment in the starlight. He seemed more relaxed than when he'd first gotten home. She ruffled her fingers through his damp hair and smiled as his curls danced in the gentle ocean breeze.

"What's so funny?" he softly asked, reaching out to grasp her other hand.

"Nothing," she winked and moved closer to his side. "What'cha doing out here on my balcony?" Her fingers continued to stroke a soothing pattern across his scalp.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged, then answered honestly, "…Missing you."

"Were you now?" She flashed a lopsided grin, secretly thrilled by his rare admission of need, then skimmed the back of her fingers over his cheek. "And here I thought you enjoyed having the bed all to yourself those two weeks I was gone."

"Noooo," was his pouting reply.

Yet another admission of vulnerability, she thought. He was definitely on edge and feeling the heat of those accusatory words on the tape. She felt the guilt prick her heart, but vowed to continue her quest for the truth.

"Good to know," she gestured for him to scoot over and share the lounge chair.

He pulled her into his lap instead, facing him, her legs straddling his. He fingered the buttons of her current choice of sleepwear, "Uh, doesn't this shirt belong to me?"

"Yes," she responded, unfazed and not the least bit apologetic. "It was the only thing clean in the laundry room, and someone got my clothes all wet." Her fingertips grazed his chest before tangling in his hair.

For some reason it made him ridiculously proud and possessive to see her wearing his shirt. Of course, he'd never admit that sentiment to her! His fingers slid up the front band of the gray dress shirt, until they reached the first fastened button. Releasing the button from the hole, he worked his way down to the next and the next, repeating the same maneuver each step of the way. His eyes followed his journey with rapt attention, while hers watched the enthralled expression blossoming across his face.

When he'd finally unfastened the last button, he let the shirt gap open just enough to see her tanned skin beneath. He slowly traced his fingers down the exposed skin from the hollow of her throat to her lower abdomen. As he arrived at his desired location, his palm splayed tenderly across the skin below her navel, caressing the spot that nurtured their child.

Peering up, he gazed into her eyes with an intensity born of admiration and love. She casually draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned forward, placing a lingering kiss upon his lips. Her hair cascaded in ringlets and curls around his face, encasing them in a private world. He closed his eyes and reveled in the moment, breathing in all the love and comfort she to had to offer.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, his beard lightly grazing her cheek, "…both of you." His lips paid homage to her earlobe, before drifting lower to the side of her neck. He nibbled at the delicate flesh, before sucking more greedily.

"Show me." Her words barely audible, tingled across his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his short locks, as she redirected him to her mouth.

His hand burrowed under her shirt, skimming along her side and cupping her breast. Her mouth went slack, as she suddenly gasped for air. Shivering at his touch, she froze momentarily, before seeking out his mouth again. His hand continued on around her back, holding her to him, as he rose from the chair. Her legs instinctively clenched his waist, as he carried her toward the bed.

When his legs bumped the edge of the mattress, he turned and relaxed his grip on her hips. She slid down his body inch-by-inch, careful to never lose their intimate contact. Once standing on her feet, she grasped the bottom edge of his t-shirt, gathering it in her hands, as she dragged it up his chest and over his head. He quickly divested her of the borrowed shirt, and one by one, their remaining clothes pooled on the floor.

She gently pushed him to sit on the bed, then, nudging his knees apart, stepped between his legs. Tipping his head back, she kissed him with determination and need, quickening their painfully slow pace. He returned her affection kiss for kiss, before pulling back to gaze into her eyes.

"Slow down." He kissed her tenderly on the lips, before speaking again. "Relax…feel…breathe." Each of his word was punctuated by another nip of her lips. His hands encircled her waist, drawing her tightly to him. Burying his face in her chest, he lost himself in her familiar scent.

"What?" she breathlessly replied, eyes dazed and unseeing from the building passion.

"Let's take it slow and easy this time." He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. Then, collecting his thoughts, he inhaled deeply and finally spoke again. "I want to remember tonight for the rest of my life."

"Why?" She pulled back, clearly confused. Her trembling fingers skipped through his beard, before cupping his chin and raising his face to hers. She desperately needed answers but was simultaneously afraid of their finality. He immediately noticed the traces of fear building in her eyes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Her voice broke, as she finally voiced her deepest fear. Chewing on her bottom lip, she tried desperately to maintain her composure.

"No! No, of course not," he replied with conviction. His brow furrowed in concern. "Why would you even ask such a question?"

She silently shrugged before looking away, nervous and unsure of her earlier bold actions. He could feel the strain and tension overtaking her body. Tears shone brightly in her eyes.

"Charlie," He gently guided her face back to his. Gazing at her intently, he continued on, "I don't plan on leaving you…ever."

She nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed away the dampness with the pad of his thumb, then followed its path with his lips. His arms clutched at her waist, pulling her into his lap. She dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her face from his piercing view. His fingers gently threaded through the dark strands of her hair, lifting them from her face.

"Charlie, baby, look at me."

She hesitated a moment, before slowly complying with his request; chin jerking slowly upward inch by inch. When her eyes finally met his, his smile was disarming and full of love. She felt the warmth of his breath as it fanned her face. His fingers tenderly caressed her cheek. And then he stilled his movements, his eyes penetrating hers.

"We decided to have a baby tonight, right?" Her eyes widened in awe, as she unconsciously nodded her assent.

"That's why I want to remember tonight, sweetheart," the emotion swirling in his eyes verified the truth of his words. "Tonight you gave me a wonderful gift…the chance for a child," his last words were spoken in the hushed tones of a prayer.

She leaned down then to kiss his forehead, softly as an angel whisper. She tenderly cupped his face, her thumb brushing against the warm skin of his cheek, before tripping over the stubble of his beard.

His eyes followed hers, searing into her soul, trying to communicate without words. Her fingers strummed through his hair, taming his unruly curls, before her arms circled his neck, and her cheek came to rest on the crown of his head.

She felt him melt into her embrace, as he clung to her tightly. Inhaling deeply, he released a harmonious sigh on a long expiration; it sounded more like sweet music than merely the sustenance of life. Sitting in the quiet room, each lost in the other's presence, she slowly became aware of his movements. His face turned into her neck, lips seeking out her skin.

Drawing her to him, he turned and laid her on the bed. Their lips met, tasted and teased, then returned for more. He rolled atop her, pinning her hands overhead. His lips and fingers found their way down her body. His touch was gentle and inquisitive; his fingers lingered over favorite sensitive patches of soft skin. His lips mapped the exposed terrain of her body. She tugged on his arms, trying to bring him back to her lips, but he was undeterred in his pursuit to memorize every inch of her.

She gave up her demands for his, relaxing into his touch, feeling their connection. They always seemed to be at such a frenzied pace, that the stark contrast enlivened her, making her feel his every stroke and caress. Her raw nerves crackled and sizzled, as his lips scorched her skin.

When he returned to her mouth, his movements slowed and stilled. He explored her with the tenderness and sweetness of longtime lovers. And when they joined, he pulled back to gaze into her eyes as they drifted shut in pleasure. His fingertips lightly grazed her eyelids, as his lips softly demanded, "Open them."

She fought to comply with his request, her lids fluttering before staying open. He studied her with a reverent awe, worshipping her with his every movement. Their bodies spoke their love, and when they finally broke, shuddering in each other's arms, he collapsed onto her. She held on tightly, allowing her fingers to stray over the damp skin of his back.

Seconds turned into minutes before he was conscious enough to scoop her up in his arms and roll onto his back. She relaxed against his chest, her face snuggling into his neck, as she fought to stifle a contented yawn. His fingers rhythmically stroked her skin, easing her into slumber.

He felt her motion cease, as her breath evened out within the space of minutes. As she entered dreamland, he watched her eyelids flutter and wished her the peace of gentle sleep. His fingers continuously stroked the skin of her side, marveling at its softness. She was always too busy caring for others to let others tend to her, so he vowed to watch over her as she dreamed. His sleeplessness was a small price to pay for the gift of her love.

As she slept on, his mind continued to whirl at a frantic pace. He sought every crevice of his mind for a solution to his nightmare. He was determined not to lose her, or this closeness that they shared. She was his love, his life, his very existence. The salvation of his soul. She'd managed to make him whole again; a feat he had doubted was even possible a year ago. He lightly kissed her forehead, careful not to wake her.

"I love you, Charlie, more than you could ever know," he whispered against her skin. "Don't ever doubt that, no matter what the future holds."

Of one thing he was certain: he had to find that damn tape, before it fell into the wrong hands. He vowed to clean up his mess, before it destroyed his world. Just one more lie to fix things, and then everything would be fine. Surely she would understand.

'_***'**_

_You are the avalanche_

_One world away_

_My make believing_

_While I'm wide awake_

_'*'_

_Just a trick of light_

_To bring me back around again_

_Those wild eyes_

_A psychedelic silhouette_

_'*'_

_I never meant to fall for you but I_

_Was buried underneath and_

_All that I could see was white_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_'*'_

_You are the snowstorm_

_I'm purified_

_The darkest fairytale_

_In the dead of night_

_'*'_

_Let the band play out_

_As I'm making my way home again_

_Glorious we transcend_

_Into a psychedelic silhouette_

_'*'_

_I never meant to fall for you but I_

_Was buried underneath and_

_All that I could see was white_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_'*'_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

'_*****'**_

_To be continued…_

'_************'**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>__ All right, everyone, I wanted to give you a sweet and tender chapter, before the facts start to coalesce around our couple and the harshness of the truth hits the rocks on the shore. Buckle up, folks! The ride is about to get a lot bumpier!_


	3. Chapter 2: My Salvation

_**AN:**__ Before I deal with any specifics related to this chapter, I want to thank those of you who have taken the time to review my story. I really appreciate your kind words and encouragement! Apparently, this story isn't most folks "cup of tea," and for that I am truly sorry._

_I realize the story thus far has mostly been from Paul's POV, and that continues on here in chapter 2. That said, Charlie will be playing a much larger role in the upcoming chapters, along with Paul, and the other characters of Graceland. This is not a Briggs-centric story, but rather equal parts DeMarco-Briggs, with the other favorite (and hated) characters having major or minor roles._

_This chapter continues on where chapter 1 ended and follows the episode "Head of the Pig." I don't plan to delve into the episode "Home" all that much, mostly because it didn't make a lot of sense - more about that in the author's notes of chapter 3. I do, however, feel it is important to start bringing Charlie's actions into view, as relates to the tape. There are a few subtle hints of her involvement in this chapter, but I will expand more on her role in chapter 3._

_**Disclaimer: **__The song ending this chapter is "Salvation" from the album __English Rain__ by Gabrielle Aplin._

'_************'**_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: My Salvation<strong>

"_yours is the light by which my spirit's born:_

_yours is the darkness of my soul's return_

_- you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars" – ee cummings_

'_*****'**_

* * *

><p>Early Wee Hours<p>

Graceland

Southern California

The key missed its mark several times, as he attempted to unlock the door. His hands were shaking from the cold. The rains had continued the entire ride home. He was drenched and freezing.

Lightning zipped across the sky, brightening the night, as thunder crashed in the background. Finally, the key turned in the lock and the doorknob gave way in his shivering hand. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the dark room, thankful to find the space empty and quiet.

He locked up and remained still for a moment, his head resting against the closed door. He had been afraid he'd find Charlie waiting up for him, wanting to discuss his quick exit and long absence. Taking a deep breath of relief, he turned to head upstairs for a much-needed hot shower. Her voice caught him as his foot hit the first step.

"Paul?"

He froze in place, irritated at being caught. It briefly flashed through his mind to continue on upstairs, pretending not to hear. Thinking better of it, he paused and answered. "It's just me, babbbe."

She raised her head from a pillow on the couch and peered into the darkness, trying to make out his form. "Thank goodness! Where have you been? I was worried sick!"

"Out for a drive," was his too quick reply. "Needed to ccclear to my headddd."

"Why?"

He sighed his frustration, and slowly made his way to her side. Crouching beside her, he tried to visualize the expression on her face in the dim, moonless night. Another lightning strike obliged him, as he noted she looked both worried and irritated at the same time. He reached out and traced his fingers over her wrinkled brow.

"You're freezing!" was her instantaneous reply.

"Stttarted raaaining," he stuttered, as he shivered again, "…no roofff on the Broncoooo, 'membbber?"

"You need to get out of those clothes." She quickly morphed into her mothering mode, sitting up to remove his jacket.

After slowly peeling the coat off his wet arms like a second skin, she tugged the soaked shirt over his head. Reaching for a throw from the back of the couch, she wrapped it around his body, briskly rubbing her hands up and down his arms. His initial irritation melted away at her concerned touch. She pulled him close, hugging him to her body. He melted into her, enjoying her closeness and warmth. His face instinctively sought out her neck. She smelled like home to him, a welcoming presence in his current storm. They stayed in that embrace for several minutes, letting the quiet wash over them.

Finally, he pulled away, mumbling apologetically, "I'm getttting you all wetttt."

"No worries." She cupped his cheek, her fingers stroking through his beard. She grabbed the dishtowel from her shoulder with her other hand and gently dabbed away the water droplets, as they trickled from his wet hair onto his face.

The outside storm with its driving winds and rain finally relented to the gentle staccato of raindrops against the expansive glass of the house. The moon peeked through the clearing cover, as the heavy gray clouds moved off in the distance. She studied his face in the filtered light. He was clearly exhausted. Deep lines furrowed his brow, and dark shadows encircled his eyes. She leaned forward. Her lips lightly brushed away the creases on his forehead and meandered down his cheek, before finding his cold lips. She kissed him gently and slowly, expressing her love and concern.

His numb lips remained unmoving for a moment before responding. He couldn't lose this, was the fleeting thought at the back his mind, as he deepened the kiss. She was his anchor, his world.

"You know I love you, riggghttt?" His voice broke with emotion on the last word, and he tried to cover it with a shivering stutter.

She could hear the desperation in his voice, as he whispered the words against her lips. She'd been worried he'd fled tonight, like the last time he'd been caught up in his web of lies and misdeeds. She briefly wondered if she was doing the right thing with the tape, but then resolved she needed to know the truth.

"Yeah," she drawled out and kissed him again. "You should probably get that shower now and warm up." She caressed his cheek in reassurance. He'd been through enough tonight; there was always time to talk tomorrow.

His hand covered hers, pressing her palm to his cheek. He needed that physical link to her, to his future, if he was to weather his current situation. He wouldn't survive without her, of that he was certain. If Lisa's death had taught him little else, it was the delicateness of the tethering thread that linked you to those you held dear. Did Charlie know the essential place she held in his life? Had he ever told her?

"More than anything." He sought her eyes with his own, trying to express the true depth of his feelings, and needing to hear the same from her.

She watched as his eyes glazed over and shone in the moonlight. Leaning in to kiss him again, she whispered fervently against his lips, "Me too, baby, me too."

He stood to regain his bearings and shake off his maudlin mood. The moonlight illuminated the cresting ocean beyond. The approaching and receding waves mesmerized him, reminding him of the fragileness of life, as events threatened to drown him and steal away all he held dear.

She watched the various expressions flicker over his face, one by one, wondering where his thoughts had gone. He caught her studying him out of the corner of his eye and tried to regroup, fearing she'd start questioning him again.

"Well, I better get that shower, before I catch the death of cold," was his feeble attempt at escape.

He turned heel and headed for the stairs. Pausing on the bottom step, he turned back her way. "Why are you down here?"

"Sauce," was her simple one word reply.

The aroma hit him in that moment. His upturned nose inhaled deeply, taking in the delicious scent of tomato, garlic, oregano and basil. He missed the simpler days, when the camaraderie of the house revolved around Charlie's regaling of her ancestors' tale, and the much anticipated, three-day wait for sauce night.

"Ah, yes, the sauce…It smells great, babe," was his rejoinder, as he slipped upstairs.

'_***'**_

He stepped into the hot shower, as steam swirled around him in a cloudy haze. The water cascaded over his body, scalding and reddening his frozen skin. Rather than step back, he embraced the pain, feeling invigorated and alive, happy to feel anything but fear and loneliness. He tried to plan his next move, but his mind was numb from the events of the night. How had he gone from such towering heights to the fires of hell? From the joy of being a father to the fear of losing it all, in mere seconds—all in the space of a single phone call. He felt like a grand prix racer barreling toward the wall at 200 miles per hour. He could clearly see the impending crash, yet couldn't brace for the impact.

Feeling was slowly returning to his hands and feet, as the pins and needles subsided. Reaching for the shower gel, he tried to scrub away the tension and exhaustion of the night, with little effect.

Leaning his hands against the adjacent shower wall, he let the bulk of his weight rest against his muscular arms, as the hot water beat down on his head and his thoughts began to wander. Was it really just a couple of days ago that Charlie returned home from Amber's place? He'd been so excited to get her home after her two-week absence; he'd snuck into the bathroom to find her, like a child in awe trying to get a glimpse of Santa on Christmas morn.

They'd had little contact in the two weeks she'd been gone, despite her assurances to the contrary. His phone calls had gone to voice mail more often than not, rarely to be returned. He had been worried sick and missed her terribly. For such a brief absence, it had felt more like an eternity. Paige had even noticed his wounded puppy dog eyes, when he'd mistaken her for Charlie trudging up the stairs.

He hadn't realized the enormous size of his bed, until he'd been left to sleep alone. Before Charlie, he'd found his private space roomy and liberating, away from the other occupants of the house, but now, without her, its emptiness suffocated him in silence and loneliness. He wondered if she had any inclination of how much she had changed him. His fun-loving bachelor days, of flirting with anything in a skirt and staying out all night, were well and truly done.

"Well, I guess I'm finally housebroken," was his self-loathing reply. It had certainly taken him long enough.

Shaking his head in disgust, he realized he couldn't even sleep without her, as there had been very little of that luxury in her absence. His nightmares tortured him every time he closed his eyes, and without Charlie to soothe them away, he'd been left to suffer the torment of his demons. That night when he'd stepped into the shower with her, after seeing the positive pregnancy test, had been his first good night's sleep in weeks.

That little irritating voice in the back of his head, the one that had been so vocal of late, chided him again. 'Of course, the fact she wore you out had no impact at all!' He snorted at that little tidbit of information; it was the first time that annoying know-it-all had been right all night!

He turned off the water, reached for a towel, and stepped out of the shower. Drying off, he raked his fingers through his wet hair and decided to let it air dry for the night. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he headed for his room. He dressed quickly in boxers and a t-shirt, then pulled back the blankets and crawled into his bed. He tossed and turned for several minutes, before throwing his legs over the side and standing up again. Without Charlie, it was pointless to even try to sleep. He was torn between wanting her there for comfort and escaping her questioning gaze. Either way, it was going to be another sleepless night.

He wandered out of his room in search of her, then doubled back and entered her room instead. Even if he couldn't have her, there was something calming about having her things around him. He dropped wearily onto her bed. Gazing around her room, he was taken by the décor that was so…well, Charlie. A streamlined mix of modern and eclectic, nothing too feminine or frilly, but cozy just the same, in a definite Charlie sort of way. Pulling back the quilt on her bed, he slipped his legs underneath and reclined against her headboard. He'd managed to fall asleep in that same position multiple times in the beginning of their relationship.

His legs stretched and moved of their own accord between the cool sheets, seeking out hers. He sighed in frustration as he twisted and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot. Sliding further down the bed, he laid his head on her pillow and was relieved to find it smelled like her. His eyes had almost drifted shut when his hand became entangled in a strap beneath the adjacent pillow.

Pulling out the garment, he held up her pink bra for closer inspection. He grinned impishly with the knowledge she also possessed a pair of matching panties. Another little secret that no one else knew about his Charlie: she actually liked pink! While she preferred to dress in casual clothing of black, blue or gray, and absolutely abhorred frills and lace, she frequently hid a tiny bit of her feminine side underneath her 'I can compete in a man's world' persona.

He'd first discovered her secret on their second op as Katie and Eric. That night, when she'd shot up trying to placate Quinn, he'd been forced to physically carry her out of the dealer's house and stash her at his emergency apartment. She'd been so disoriented and sick, he'd helped her into some of his spare clothing when hers had become drenched in sweat. That's when he'd discovered her secret. He'd never mentioned it to her for fear of her fury-at least not until after they'd become involved. He loved that juxtaposition about her, tough on the outside but soft and feminine underneath. That physical persona matched her deeper personality to a 'T.' She was tough as nails one minute, fists flying with criminal scum like Quinn, then comforting and tender the next, looking out for her CI, Whistler.

He rose from the bed and began to pace. It was clear that sleep was not coming easily that night. He tossed the bra over his shoulder and wandered to the other side of her room. Picking up a perfume bottle, he removed the cap and inhaled. It was his very favorite fragrance on her. He'd been buying it for her as Christmas and birthday gifts since long before they were involved. The perfume reminded him of sunshine and ocean breezes, with subtle undertones of floral, or at least, that was the way the sales lady at Saks had described the fragrance when he'd inquired about it. All he knew was it smelled like Charlie. He'd been in a hurry that day, making his way through Saks to gain entrance to the other stores in the mall. As he strolled past the cosmetic counter, his nose had been assaulted by the overwhelming potpourri of smells. He'd almost escaped, when a subtle fragrance caught his nose, immediately invoking a mental image of his best friend. He'd been drawn to buy it for her in that moment, for reasons he never fully understood until now, and it had become her favorite perfume from that time on.

Setting the bottle back on her dresser, he meandered toward her desk. It was in its usual state of organized disarray. He knew better than to touch a single paper, envelope or file. As messy as the desk appeared to the casual observer, Charlie knew where each and every item belonged. He'd tried fiddling with her system once in jest.

'Let's just say,' he mused, 'payback was a bitch'!

He opened the sliding door and stepped out onto her balcony. The rain had finally ceased, and the air held that distinct, freshly scrubbed aroma that only happens after a deep cleansing rain. The storm clouds had long since cleared out, leaving behind a star-filled sky. The temperature had risen since the fierce winds had calmed, too. He pulled up her chaise lounge and relaxed back into it to enjoy the symphony of his favorite night sounds. The dancing waves crashed against the shore, nearly drowning out the crickets' serenade. He was reminded again why he loved the shores of Southern California. He was so lost in his own wonderland of sight and sounds that he failed to hear Charlie's approaching footsteps.

"There you are," she exclaimed, a hint of irritation in her voice.

"What?" was his startled reply.

"I've been calling your name for the last five minutes, all the while trying not to wake the entire house."

"Sorry," he said meekly, turning his eyes back to his beloved sea.

She studied him for a moment in the starlight. He seemed more relaxed than when he'd first gotten home. She ruffled her fingers through his damp hair and smiled as his curls danced in the gentle ocean breeze.

"What's so funny?" he softly asked, reaching out to grasp her other hand.

"Nothing," she winked and moved closer to his side. "What'cha doing out here on my balcony?" Her fingers continued to stroke a soothing pattern across his scalp.

"Couldn't sleep," he shrugged, then answered honestly, "…Missing you."

"Were you now?" She flashed a lopsided grin, secretly thrilled by his rare admission of need, then skimmed the back of her fingers over his cheek. "And here I thought you enjoyed having the bed all to yourself those two weeks I was gone."

"Noooo," was his pouting reply.

Yet another admission of vulnerability, she thought. He was definitely on edge and feeling the heat of those accusatory words on the tape. She felt the guilt prick her heart, but vowed to continue her quest for the truth.

"Good to know," she gestured for him to scoot over and share the lounge chair.

He pulled her into his lap instead, facing him, her legs straddling his. He fingered the buttons of her current choice of sleepwear, "Uh, doesn't this shirt belong to me?"

"Yes," she responded, unfazed and not the least bit apologetic. "It was the only thing clean in the laundry room, and someone got my clothes all wet." Her fingertips grazed his chest before tangling in his hair.

For some reason it made him ridiculously proud and possessive to see her wearing his shirt. Of course, he'd never admit that sentiment to her! His fingers slid up the front band of the gray dress shirt, until they reached the first fastened button. Releasing the button from the hole, he worked his way down to the next and the next, repeating the same maneuver each step of the way. His eyes followed his journey with rapt attention, while hers watched the enthralled expression blossoming across his face.

When he'd finally unfastened the last button, he let the shirt gap open just enough to see her tanned skin beneath. He slowly traced his fingers down the exposed skin from the hollow of her throat to her lower abdomen. As he arrived at his desired location, his palm splayed tenderly across the skin below her navel, caressing the spot that nurtured their child.

Peering up, he gazed into her eyes with an intensity born of admiration and love. She casually draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned forward, placing a lingering kiss upon his lips. Her hair cascaded in ringlets and curls around his face, encasing them in a private world. He closed his eyes and reveled in the moment, breathing in all the love and comfort she to had to offer.

"I love you," he whispered into her ear, his beard lightly grazing her cheek, "…both of you." His lips paid homage to her earlobe, before drifting lower to the side of her neck. He nibbled at the delicate flesh, before sucking more greedily.

"Show me." Her words barely audible, tingled across his skin, raising the hair on the back of his neck. Her fingers tangled in his short locks, as she redirected him to her mouth.

His hand burrowed under her shirt, skimming along her side and cupping her breast. Her mouth went slack, as she suddenly gasped for air. Shivering at his touch, she froze momentarily, before seeking out his mouth again. His hand continued on around her back, holding her to him, as he rose from the chair. Her legs instinctively clenched his waist, as he carried her toward the bed.

When his legs bumped the edge of the mattress, he turned and relaxed his grip on her hips. She slid down his body inch-by-inch, careful to never lose their intimate contact. Once standing on her feet, she grasped the bottom edge of his t-shirt, gathering it in her hands, as she dragged it up his chest and over his head. He quickly divested her of the borrowed shirt, and one by one, their remaining clothes pooled on the floor.

She gently pushed him to sit on the bed, then, nudging his knees apart, stepped between his legs. Tipping his head back, she kissed him with determination and need, quickening their painfully slow pace. He returned her affection kiss for kiss, before pulling back to gaze into her eyes.

"Slow down." He kissed her tenderly on the lips, before speaking again. "Relax…feel…breathe." Each of his word was punctuated by another nip of her lips. His hands encircled her waist, drawing her tightly to him. Burying his face in her chest, he lost himself in her familiar scent.

"What?" she breathlessly replied, eyes dazed and unseeing from the building passion.

"Let's take it slow and easy this time." He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in. Then, collecting his thoughts, he inhaled deeply and finally spoke again. "I want to remember tonight for the rest of my life."

"Why?" She pulled back, clearly confused. Her trembling fingers skipped through his beard, before cupping his chin and raising his face to hers. She desperately needed answers but was simultaneously afraid of their finality. He immediately noticed the traces of fear building in her eyes.

"Are you going somewhere?" Her voice broke, as she finally voiced her deepest fear. Chewing on her bottom lip, she tried desperately to maintain her composure.

"No! No, of course not," he replied with conviction. His brow furrowed in concern. "Why would you even ask such a question?"

She silently shrugged before looking away, nervous and unsure of her earlier bold actions. He could feel the strain and tension overtaking her body. Tears shone brightly in her eyes.

"Charlie," He gently guided her face back to his. Gazing at her intently, he continued on, "I don't plan on leaving you…ever."

She nodded as a tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed away the dampness with the pad of his thumb, then followed its path with his lips. His arms clutched at her waist, pulling her into his lap. She dropped her chin to her chest, hiding her face from his piercing view. His fingers gently threaded through the dark strands of her hair, lifting them from her face.

"Charlie, baby, look at me."

She hesitated a moment, before slowly complying with his request; chin jerking slowly upward inch by inch. When her eyes finally met his, his smile was disarming and full of love. She felt the warmth of his breath as it fanned her face. His fingers tenderly caressed her cheek. And then he stilled his movements, his eyes penetrating hers.

"We decided to have a baby tonight, right?" Her eyes widened in awe, as she unconsciously nodded her assent.

"That's why I want to remember tonight, sweetheart," the emotion swirling in his eyes verified the truth of his words. "Tonight you gave me a wonderful gift…the chance for a child," his last words were spoken in the hushed tones of a prayer.

She leaned down then to kiss his forehead, softly as an angel whisper. She tenderly cupped his face, her thumb brushing against the warm skin of his cheek, before tripping over the stubble of his beard.

His eyes followed hers, searing into her soul, trying to communicate without words. Her fingers strummed through his hair, taming his unruly curls, before her arms circled his neck, and her cheek came to rest on the crown of his head.

She felt him melt into her embrace, as he clung to her tightly. Inhaling deeply, he released a harmonious sigh on a long expiration; it sounded more like sweet music than merely the sustenance of life. Sitting in the quiet room, each lost in the other's presence, she slowly became aware of his movements. His face turned into her neck, lips seeking out her skin.

Drawing her to him, he turned and laid her on the bed. Their lips met, tasted and teased, then returned for more. He rolled atop her, pinning her hands overhead. His lips and fingers found their way down her body. His touch was gentle and inquisitive; his fingers lingered over favorite sensitive patches of soft skin. His lips mapped the exposed terrain of her body. She tugged on his arms, trying to bring him back to her lips, but he was undeterred in his pursuit to memorize every inch of her.

She gave up her demands for his, relaxing into his touch, feeling their connection. They always seemed to be at such a frenzied pace, that the stark contrast enlivened her, making her feel his every stroke and caress. Her raw nerves crackled and sizzled, as his lips scorched her skin.

When he returned to her mouth, his movements slowed and stilled. He explored her with the tenderness and sweetness of longtime lovers. And when they joined, he pulled back to gaze into her eyes as they drifted shut in pleasure. His fingertips lightly grazed her eyelids, as his lips softly demanded, "Open them."

She fought to comply with his request, her lids fluttering before staying open. He studied her with a reverent awe, worshipping her with his every movement. Their bodies spoke their love, and when they finally broke, shuddering in each other's arms, he collapsed onto her. She held on tightly, allowing her fingers to stray over the damp skin of his back.

Seconds turned into minutes before he was conscious enough to scoop her up in his arms and roll onto his back. She relaxed against his chest, her face snuggling into his neck, as she fought to stifle a contented yawn. His fingers rhythmically stroked her skin, easing her into slumber.

He felt her motion cease, as her breath evened out within the space of minutes. As she entered dreamland, he watched her eyelids flutter and wished her the peace of gentle sleep. His fingers continuously stroked the skin of her side, marveling at its softness. She was always too busy caring for others to let others tend to her, so he vowed to watch over her as she dreamed. His sleeplessness was a small price to pay for the gift of her love.

As she slept on, his mind continued to whirl at a frantic pace. He sought every crevice of his mind for a solution to his nightmare. He was determined not to lose her, or this closeness that they shared. She was his love, his life, his very existence. The salvation of his soul. She'd managed to make him whole again; a feat he had doubted was even possible a year ago. He lightly kissed her forehead, careful not to wake her.

"I love you, Charlie, more than you could ever know," he whispered against her skin. "Don't ever doubt that, no matter what the future holds."

Of one thing he was certain: he had to find that damn tape, before it fell into the wrong hands. He vowed to clean up his mess, before it destroyed his world. Just one more lie to fix things, and then everything would be fine. Surely she would understand.

'_***'**_

_You are the avalanche_

_One world away_

_My make believing_

_While I'm wide awake_

_'*'_

_Just a trick of light_

_To bring me back around again_

_Those wild eyes_

_A psychedelic silhouette_

_'*'_

_I never meant to fall for you but I_

_Was buried underneath and_

_All that I could see was white_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_'*'_

_You are the snowstorm_

_I'm purified_

_The darkest fairytale_

_In the dead of night_

_'*'_

_Let the band play out_

_As I'm making my way home again_

_Glorious we transcend_

_Into a psychedelic silhouette_

_'*'_

_I never meant to fall for you but I_

_Was buried underneath and_

_All that I could see was white_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_'*'_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

_My salvation_

_My, my_

'_*****'**_

_To be continued…_

'_************'**_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:<strong>__ All right, everyone, I wanted to give you a sweet and tender chapter, before the facts start to coalesce around our couple and the harshness of the truth hits the rocks on the shore. Buckle up, folks! The ride is about to get a lot bumpier!_


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